Ignite
by saminstrings
Summary: Gale Hawthorne and Katniss' prep team have returned to District Twelve for the ten year anniversary that will be broadcasted all over the country of Panem. Turns out some flames cannot be put diminished. *Better than summary* *Rated T to be safe*


**IGNITE  
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**CHAPTER ONE**

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><p>My mother wrote me a letter today. She told me all about life in the Capitol, how great Paylor is doing as president, and how much she misses me. I haven't seen my mother in ten years. We've communicated through the phone and we send letters with photos at least three times per month. I miss her terribly, but I don't think I could bear ever seeing her again, nor she see me, and certainly not District Twelve. She knows I have children, and she's even spoken on the phone to my five year old daughter, Willow. My son, Aspen, is only two and doesn't care to talk much anyways.<p>

As I hold the letter in my hands, I can't help but look over to the aged cat whom once belonged to my deceased sister, Prim. His name is Buttercup, and while I used to hate him, he is know my closest friend. He purrs as he basks in the glow of the sunlight emanating from the skylight in the ceiling. Willow loves the greying cat, but Aspen is a little weary when it comes to interacting with him. I look out the large window, and let my eyes enjoy the blooming primroses, the flower my dead sister was named after. Just when I'm sure I'm about to cry from the memories that refuse to stop haunting me, my husband, Peeta, walks through the door. He's about to say something when he takes in my appearance and opens his warm, strong arms. He has just dropped Willow off at school for her first day of kindergarten. He smells like mint and warm cinnamon, and the familiar flood of security warms my body.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear. I hesitate.

"I will be," I say, and he pulls back to look me in the eye. He offers a sad, tired smile. At first, I'm sure he's going to whisper things to me about how everything will be okay. The Games are over. Coin and Snow are dead. And the girl on fire only burns when she lights her own match. No one has the power to ignite her anymore. But he doesn't. Instead he says:

"Let's go into town."

I don't argue, just follow curiously. He and I walk hand in hand through the now thriving city of Twelve. Businesses have been reestablished, homes restored, new additions have been added, and Greasy Sae even managed to get the Hob running again. Almost everyone owns a "useless house pet," and the Mockingjays seem to be showing up in every corner, no longer a sign of rebellion, but new life. Our family bakery sits closed just on the corner of the street. I'm assuming Peeta has developed some sort of cheese bun on steroids and wants me to try it. But he doesn't. In fact, we're not staying in town at all. We're going to the woods.

It's been a while since I've been to the woods. I used to go hunting regularly, but the memories eventually became too overbearing. And since Twelve is wealthy enough to order in meat, my not hunting doesn't hurt anything. I don't go to the lake anymore. My sanctuary had been invaded, tainted by the war. The thought of it makes me sick to my stomach.

"What are we doing?" I ask. Peeta doesn't say anything, just smiles grimly. I look at him questioningly, but he doesn't look at me. Why is acting like this? Have I done something wrong? Is he having a meltdown? He hasn't had one for several years now. Is it possible something threw him off? Was everything okay when he dropped of Willow?

We go under the fence, which has been turned off since the war ended. He walks me to the secluded meadow where the lake is located. The primroses and dahlias are in full bloom, and a Mockingjay is singing in the bask of the sunlight. The lake is full with perfectly clear water, and the blue surface is dancing with water lilies. Peeta sits on a cold boulder, just inches from the shimmering lake. The sun feels nice on my chilled skin, and I pull my hair over my shoulder to let the heat grace my neck. I close my eyes, wishing I could enjoy the tranquility of the meadow, but when an image of my burning father and sister enters my mind, I deem the task impossible. I open my eyes when Peeta pulls me in closer to his side, and look at him expectantly.

"What are we doing here?" I ask again, and he sighs. He seems to be struggling with his words, so I kiss his cheek to urge him on.

"Peeta, you can tell me." I try to be reassuring. Whatever he's needing to tell me is bothering him, but why? What could be flustering him so much?

"Peeta, what is it?" I ask him, this time assertively. He sighs, closes his eyes, and re-opens them. Then he looks at me, and I'm so consumed by his beautiful blue eyes, that I'm ready to just give up on the subject entirely. But then he speaks, and I am rudely awakened from ignorance.

"Gale's back."

I stare, first in confusion, then disbelief. What is Gale doing outside of Two? What could be here for him? At first, I'm afraid that he's come back to see me, but then as I'm couting how long it's been since I've last seen him, I grow uncomfortable. Ten years. Gale's not here to talk to me. If he wanted to see me, he would have come back a long time ago. Ten yeas. Ten year since the war. Ten years since nearly everyone I loved died. Ten years since the would last saw the Mockingjay.

I sigh. This wasn't a visit from Gale, and the squeal behind me only confirms my theory. I turn around and am met with probably the most ridiculous set of people I have ever met. My prep team.

"Katniss!" Octavia squeals nasally. She sneezes softly, and sniffles. The whole prep team seems to be struggling with their sinuses.

Venia smiles and says, "Sorry, it's the pollen. We're not quite used to it."

My prep teams appearance has toned down considerably. Venia's hair is now platinum silver, with snow white bangs. Her false, blue eyelashes remain, but with silver tips. Her lips are slightly fuller, and are painted dark red. She's wearing blue jeans with a creme colored cashmere sweater. For once, you see the natural shape of her body rather than the Capitol body plastics. I suppose natural is the new hype in the Capitol. Octavia's natural auburn tresses have replaced her previously outrageous dyes, and run in long, ethereal waves down her back and over her shoulders. Her ivory skin is shimmering with gold body glitter. She's wearing a green, one shouldered top over pitch black jeans to match her ebony nail polish which has been decorated with green hearts. Her eyelashes are coated in black mascara with gold flecks, and reach almost to her forehead. I get to see her freckles for the first time, and am so fascinated by them that I almost don't notice her (dare I say it) fabulous shoes. The healed booties are partnered with green ribbon laces. The pointed toe looks lethal, but the high end shoes are paired with such a sweet outfit (and person) that the thought of Octavia spearing someone in the eye vanishes almost instantaneously. Flavius' hair is fiery red, but not unnaturally so. His warm brown eyes are naked of make-up, just as the rest of his face. His outfit is pitch black, consisting of combat boots, pants, and a biker jacket over a plain t-shirt. He is the most normal appearing out of all of them, while Venia seems a little reluctant to let go of the old fads the Capitol fashioned ten years ago.

After embracing everyone, I ask them why they're here. Turns out Paylor tried to get me the message about the ten year anniversary (of the successful win of the war), but I was being so stubborn about the phone that she had no choice but to send the team. Gale is here for filming. According to Flavius, we weren't supposed to know he was here. It just happened that Gale was walking by the new school when Peeta was dropping off Willow.

My palms grow clammy, and I can feel the nervous heat begin to radiate from my forehead. I would be seeing Gale again. After ten years, I would be seeing the best friend whose bomb killed my little sister. What would he look like? Glamorous, I'm sure. Wearing only the finest clothes, sent directly from the Capitol. Sleek in black, with a bullet proof vest to guard him from his own weapons.

Suddenly I'm angry. At the Capitol, my prep team, Gale, my mother, Haymitch, the Games, but most of all myself. For letting the war get the best of me. For letting the Games change my perspective. I nod to the three Capitol citizens as I try to see through the red hot anger, and stand up from my rock to return home. I see Octavia from the corner of my eye as she tries to follow me, but Venia and Peeta are quick to stop here.

"She needs to think." Peeta says gently.

As the meadow fades from my eyesight, my thoughts just become more jumbled. I duck under the fence, and started heading home, but my direction changes. Instead of going to the Victor's Village (which is now referred to simply as the Central Village), I find myself standing in front of what remains of my old home in the Seam. Segments of the charred building have been restored. I didn't want the carpenters to change more than what was needed; just enough to keep it from crumbling to ash. The roof, damp from early morning rain, has worn considerably since I last was here. I breathe deeply before stepping inside, and I soon wish I hadn't.

He's standing there, not coated in glamour but looking tired and worn out. His jet black hair is disheveled, and his grey eyes wounded from years of witnessing death and suffering. His hands are scarred, but his maimed fingers move as deftly as ever. His broad shoulders remain strong, but he is slouched over, and only I would understand how is feeling inside. Weak.

"Hey, Catnip," he whispers, and I struggle to fight against the tears in his tired eyes. But as he once told me, he always has my attention when he's in pain.

"Hi, Gale," I whisper back. He looks at me, and I can't resist against the pained expression on his face. So when he opens his arms, I walk into them. He smells nice. Like spearmint and clean laundry. His arms tighten around me, and I just hope no one walks in. His breath is warm on my neck.

"I'm so sorry," he chokes, and I squeeze my eyes shut so the tears don't fall. I don't say it's okay, because I can't.

"I know." It's the same response I gave him when he told me he loved me. I know he's thinking about it too, because when he finally pulls away, he can barely look me in the eye. He knows Peeta and I are married with children, and that I'm happy with my family. So why am I feeling guilty at this very moment? It's silent for a while. Gale moves a piece of lint around with the toe of his boot, and and I fiddle with my wedding ring.

"When did he do it?" he asks, gesturing to the delicate jewel Peeta presented to me the night of our engagement.

"A year after the war. The primroses had just gone out of season," I whisper, because if I did otherwise, I wouldn't be able to keep myself from breaking in front of him. And I don't think I could quite explain to Aspen why his mommy's eyes were so red upon picking him up from Dally's daycare center.

Gale flinches at the mention of the wilting primroses, and I know I shouldn't have said it. Shouldn't have thrown Prim's death in his face. Shouldn't have let him known that I'm still mourning. Shouldn't have let him known that I'm still angry. Shouldn't have let him known that I still blame him.

"She... She wasn't supposed to be there," he fights through his tears, and I look away because the salty drops of water are threatening to spill over my cheeks. "I never meant... I never meant to break my promise. I never meant to hurt..." He can't finish his sentence, because he knows his last statement is a lie. _I never meant to hurt anyone _is what he was about to say. And it's not true. Because he did mean hurt people. He meant to hurt, to kill a lot of people. He meant to destroy the Capitol and the Capitol's children to make them feel how he felt. To make them feel his pain, his loss, his suffering. But all he did in the end was feed the flame inside him. The flame that no one, not even me, could put out.

"Gale... Stop," I say, and shake my head at him. "Who are you trying to convince? Me, or you?" His eyes contort in a flash of pain, and I laugh grimly. "She's dead, Gale. You killed her. I don't want a sorry. I don't want a sob story. The only thing I want is my sister back. All I want is to see Prim grow up and get married, have kids. All I want is for my children to know their only aunt. All I want is to stop seeing my dead father and sister burning to ash when I sleep at night. All I want is for Willow to stop asking me why I keep screaming 'Prim' at night. All I want is for Aspen to stop wondering why I got so hysterical when he crushed the primroses in the front yard. All I want is for you to bring her back, Gale. Bring her back to me." I'm sobbing now, screaming even. I'm sitting on the broken floor, gripping my head with my hands. I feel alone. Peeta's not here to kiss my tears away, Willow and Aspen aren't here to hug me until I fall asleep, Buttercup's not here to lay beside me until I quiet down.

So when Gale kisses me, I let him.

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><p><strong>First chapter. Done. Bam. I know. They kissed. Don't hate me. There is a method to my madness.<strong>

**- Sam**


End file.
